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Grandpa Van: Yes, I Still Like Butter

Updated: Feb 19, 2021

When I moved into our house 4 years ago, I started gardens to memorialize loved ones who have passed. I planted stuff in each garden that reminded me of that loved one. This garden here is dedicated to my Grandpa Van. It has wagon wheels from his house, hostas, lilies of the valley, and peonies. The shed it rests against even has an American eagle on it, which reminds me of his WWII service. I dug up the peonies, hostas, and lilies of the valley from his (grandma’s) yard and transplanted them there.

Last year, I dug up some wild blackberry bushes from his (grandma’s) woods and planted them next to my raspberry bush and vegetable garden. They didn’t do much or get many berries, but I noticed buttercups growing up in the middle of them. When I saw them, I was taken back to childhood when Grandpa Van would hold the buttercups under my chin and say, “Do you like butter?” If my chin had a yellow reflection, it meant I liked butter.


I smiled, my heart swelled, and then I cried when I saw those buttercups in the blackberry bush. I felt Grandpa with me.

This year, I am star struck at the large glorious buttercup bush that has popped up in Grandpa’s garden, between the hostas and peonies. I did not plant it on purpose, nor did I have any in my yard before the blackberry bush (unless I unknowingly pulled them out because I thought it was a weed). Either way, this was not intentional and a surprise gift.

Thanks Grandpa for seeing to it that I had a magnificent bush of buttercups next to your wagon wheel in your garden. I just checked in the mirror and my chin revealed that I still like butter.


Love you and miss you so much.

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